Scrap #9


I opened my eyes and saw you standing there. You were dressed in a black gown and a black veil, with a newly lit Dunhill slipped between your fingers. You stared at me emotionless. The smoke hung in the air, the fumes covering the room with the lingering scent of your cigarette. Then you started to walk toward me with such an elegant movement. Sound of your heels tapping the floor echoed around the room. In the end, as we got so close, you kissed my lips. It was wet and warm. “Good night, Darling,” you said, looking deep into my eyes, still without any trace of emotion. Then you turned and walked away. My vision blurred, and I woke up. I know it was a goodbye instead of a goodnight.




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